


Taste What You're Made Of

by kaitlia777



Category: Glee
Genre: F/M, M/M, Season 2 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaitlia777/pseuds/kaitlia777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: AU Season 2 pre- 2x03~  When Karofsky gives him a Slushee and tells him to throw it at Kurt, Sam says no and chucks it on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste What You're Made Of

“C’mon Evans, time for your official Titans initiation!”

As Karofsky’s bellow, Sam shut his locker and followed the older boy down the hall. As quarterback, he felt it was important to have a good relationship with his teammates, even if he didn't like them. 

He did not like Karofsky. Something about him set Sam’s teeth on edge and he sincerely hoped he'd never have to spend an extended amount of time alone with him.

“What’re the drinks for?” Sam asked, looking down at the two giant Slushees clutched in Karofsky’s beefy hands, lidless and without straws.

Grinning, he said, “This!”

Then he flung the bright red Slushee into the face of a pale, slender boy with neatly styled brown hair.

Sam gaped, shocked, but no one else seemed to notice the poor boy, who was wiping chunks of syrup and ice out of his eyes. The girl beside him scowled as Karofsky pressed the remaining Slushee into Sam's hands. “Go on, Evans, it's a rite of passage. Get her.”

“Why?” Sam asked, completely confused. “Why would you do that to him… Or her?”

Karofsky glared. “They're Glee Club freaks, prancing around, singing and dancing and thinking they're better than us,” he snarled, then pushed Sam's arm. “And he's a fag. Throw it!”

Blood pounded in Sam's ears as he looked at the girl, annoyed but resigned, and the boy, who was still dripping red on the floor…red ice, but it was all too easy to imagine it was something else. Blood, warm and coppery… would everyone ignore that too, standing around and watching like it was some sort of entertainment.

It was wrong.

“God, you're even dumber than Hudson! What's the matter with you?” Karofsky demanded and Sam pulled his arm back, then spun the neatly and let the Slushee fly into his teammate’s face.

“What’s the matter with me? What's the matter with you that you think it's okay to throw things at other kids cuz they're in a club you have some weird problem with or cuz he's gay? They’re not hurting you, so why do you need….”

Half blinded by green ice, Karofsky dove at Sam, who reacted quickly, lashing out and striking the large boy's throat with a lucky blow (he wasn't really one for fighting). His bulk slammed Sam into the lockers, but he staggered away, clutching at his throat and leaving Sam to catch his breath.

A small hand snagged the arm of Sam's jacket and he saw the girl looking at him. “Come with us before he recovers,” she said and Sam shrugged. Maybe they could explain what the heck happened.

He was content to allow himself to be dragged along…until they reached the bathroom. “I can't go in there! It's for ladies,” he said and both his companions rolled their eyes.

“Ladies and glee club cleanup,” the boy informed him seriously. “No one cares. We're in here every day.”

Horrified, Sam had to follow them. “This happens often?”

“Daily. Sometimes more than once,” the girl said. “I'm Rachel Berry, Glee Club lead and co-captain.”

“Kurt Hummel,” the boy added, bending over the sink to splash water on his face. “Why didn't you throw the Slushee at Rachel?”

Sam blinked. “My parents didn't raise me to be a bully!”

“No offense intended,” Kurt told him, waving blindly in his direction as Rachel poured a cup of water over his hair. “It's just that most of the football players see us as targets.”

“Oh,” Sam bit his lip. “Finn wanted me to try out for Glee, but I chickened out… Guess I don't really have to worry about being popular with the rest of the team anymore, do I? I'm Sam.”

“Lovely to meet you, Sam,” Rachel said she poked through Kurt’s bad. “Kurt, where are your spare shirts?”

“This is my third Slushee today,” Kurt replied, taking the towel she offered. “Good thing we only have Glee Club left. I'm going to feel disgusting and sticky, but I'll deal. If I had classes….”

“Dude, here,” Sam interrupted, shedding his jacket and flannel and pulling his X-Wing T-shirt over his head. “It'll be big on you, but it's clean and dry.”

He held the shirt out in Kurt’s direction and saw that both Kurt and Rachel were gaping at him. “What?”

Rachel shook herself and said, “You’re very defined.”

Kurt averted his eyes, flushing and stepping further away from Sam as he muttered, “Sorry.”

Tilting his head to the side, Sam asked, “Sorry for what?”

“Uh,” Kurt mumbled, eyes ticking to Sam, then bouncing away again and Sam finally got it.

“God, a lot of guys around here are assholes, huh?” he asked, not approaching Kurt, but smiling kindly. “Dude, I don't care if you look at me.”

Clearly surprised, Kurt narrowed his eyes. “You don't?”

“No,” Sam agreed easily. “I mean, it's a compliment. I work hard to look the way I do and if you want to look, then it means I'm doing something right.”

“I am gay,” Kurt told him slowly and Sam sighed.

“I'm starting to get offended that you think I'm like Karofsky,” Sam said. “And a little cold. Take the T-shirt, so I can put my flannel back on.”

It was Rachel who took the shirt and handed it off to Kurt, who said, “Thank you.” Then he disappeared into a stall to change.

As Sam pulled his other shirt back on, Rachel looked at him. “Very few boys I know are open-minded in this school.”

Sam shrugged. “We’re all just how God made us. It’d be un-Christian of me to hate someone for that.”

From inside the stall, Kurt said, “Most Christians would say I'm sinning for being myself.” 

Sam frowned. “I wouldn't say most Christians, just a lot of very vocal ones.”

“What about the fact that your Bible condemns homosexuality?” Rachel questioned, crossing her arms. “I'm Jewish and had two gay dads.”

“The Bible can be interpreted to suit conservative viewpoints, but it was written a very long time ago. A lot of the ideas, be kind to your fellow man, love your friends and family, they’re good, but we have to adapt as society has…and there's always David and Jonathan,” Sam said and, at her blank look continued, “They loved each other, David's father didn't approve and they parted, but years later David wept for Jonathan's death, saying he loved him as he had no woman. Not a happy story, but they are the good guys in the tale.”

“You’re a Christian football player who knows gay positive Bible verses,” Kurt said, emerging from the stall in Sam's T-shirt, which hung loose on his frame. “Where are you from?”

“Nashville, Tennessee originally,” Sam chirped happily. “Spent last year at Dalton Academy over in Westerville. Soccer scholarship, but I went crazy trying to keep my grades up and play, so when dad transferred here, I figured public school would be easier and I could still see my friends and…my boyfriend.”

Again, Kurt and Rachel gaped at him and Kurt asked, “Did the repeated Slushee attacks finally cause brain damage, because I thought I just heard you say….”

“I have a boyfriend,” Sam said calmly. Clearly, these two weren't likely to be homophobes. “I'm bisexual, but I'm pretty sure most of the guys on the football team wouldn't like that anymore than if I were gay. They'll just hear that I'm dating a boy and…whatever.”

As Kurt stared at him, fiddling nervously with the hem of Sam's T-shirt, Rachel slowly asked, “Are you out, or you're just telling us because Kurt is gay and I have two dads?”

“I guess I'm out,” he replied, realizing he was unsure. “I never had a reason not to be. It's never really been an issue. My parents know, my friends from Dalton all know….”

The look Rachel and Kurt exchanged did not give Sam a good feeling. “You should reconsider joining glee,” Kurt said, stepping toward the mirror and doing something to his hair. “We may not be popular, but at least we’re not alone.”

Rachel nodded and Sam shrugged. “Okay. I'll audition… Hey, why weren't you there when Finn had me sing for the guys?”

“What?” Kurt asked, sounding confused.

“Finn had me perform for the guys in the club, like a pre-audition. But you weren't there,” Sam expanded and Rachel frowned.

Kurt finished whatever he was doing to his hair. “I generally prefer to align myself with the girls,” he said, but Sam could hear the mild hurt in his tone.

“Why? You’re a dude.”

“I am, but everyone is more comfortable that way,” Kurt said, then grimaced. “Please don't call me dude.”

With another shrugged, Sam replied, “Okay.”

“We should get going,” Rachel said, checking the time on her phone. “I don't want to be late for rehearsal.”

“When is Mr. Shue ever on time?” Kurt sighed. “At least the halls should have emptied somewhat by now.”

His prediction couldn't have been more wrong. The hall was full of students, all of whom were milling around, staring at the bathroom door.

“Apparently, word has gotten around that you Slusheed Karofsky in defense of school freaks,” Kurt mused, sounding both annoyed and amused.

“Just ignore them,” Rachel advised, tossing her hair and raising her chin proudly.

Sam took a deep breath and peered around at least three dozen faces, all looking back at him like he was some new and strange creature they didn't understand. “You're all bullies,” he announced, mouth working before you really knew what he was saying. “You might not be throwing drinks, or pushing people into lockers, but you stand around watching it happen and do nothing to stop it. Maybe because you think it's funny or maybe because you're just glad it's not you, but either way, your cowards. Being athletic and popular doesn't make you a good person…from what I've seen around here, it just seems to make you an ass. Everyone has the power to choose how they lived their lives. Me, I'm not going to be ashamed of the people I surround myself with, so clearly none of y’all make the cut!”

Ignoring the gaping crowd, Sam turned to Rachel and held out his elbow. “Shall we, Ms. Berry?”

With a shocked smile, she slid an arm through his and said, “Let’s.”

Not wanting to leave Kurt out, Sam slung a friendly arm around his shoulders and pulled the smaller boy down the hall with them. Once they had turned the corner into a deserted corridor, Sam asked, “Did I just do what I think I did?”

“You did,” Rachel and Kurt chorused as they entered the choir room and were immediately besieged by loud questions as several girls rushed at them. Kurt was yanked away by pretty African-American girl who seemed to be asking about his shirt, while a sexy Latina, a cute blonde, a lovely blonde and a striking Asian girl were demanding to know what was going on, voices mixing into an incomprehensible blur.

“Everyone, chill!” Finn said loudly and Sam was relieved to have the din lower to silence. “Dude, you slusheed Karofsky! What were you thinking?”

That wasn't the question Sam had been expecting and he blinked, lancing down a Rachel, whose smile had disappeared. “I was thinking that I wasn't going to Slushee Rachel and that Karofsky is a jerk who needs to learn that it's not okay to act like he does.”

“Sam seems intent on redefining the status quo,” Kurt offered with a smile and Finn gave him a look.

“I'm not sure what that means,” Sam admitted. “My Spanish is good, but I don't speak any French.”

“Status quo is Latin,” one of the blonde girls informed him with a soft smile. “I'm Quinn.”

“Dude, Karofsky's a douche,” Puck offered, holding up a fist for a bump, an action mirrored by Mike and Artie. Most of the girls were nodding in agreement and only Finn still had a weird constipated look on his face.

Just as the rest of the girls finished introducing themselves, Sam's phone buzzed and he pulled it out, grinning at the caller ID. Stepping away from the group, he answered, “Hey!”

“Hey yourself, Cap,” Blaine replied, sounding warm and amused.

“Cap?” Sam asked, curious as to why he'd call him that. Sure, they'd discussed their Steve Rogers/Tony Stark parallels before, but this was kind of random.

“You went all Steve on a bully,” Blaine informed him, then cleared his throat. “I may have a McKinley high on a Google alert.”

Blaine was afraid something would happen to Sam, something like he'd gone through before transferring to dull. Sam thought it was really sweet that he was trying to keep an eye on him. “Dude, how does the Internet know about what happened?”

“There's this blogger called Jacob who seems to be obsessed with things. Rachel Berry, an awesome talent admittedly, and gossip. He just posted a story about you confronting a bully and a video of you verbally lambasting the other kids who stand by and let bullying happen,” Blaine said, then muttered, “Oh, just turn!”

Since it was Friday, it was a good bet Blaine was on the buss over from Westerville. “Traffic jam?”

“Person with their turn signal on the last mile,” Blaine replied, then chuckled. “Hey, if you decide to campaign for any more social form, let me know? I want a front row seat next time.”

“I'll do that,” Sam told him, then bit his lip. “I'm gonna try out for glee club, so I'll see you at the house later.”

“Glee club?” Blaine said and Sam could picture his amused look. “I'm going to be a good boyfriend and not point out the fact that you didn't join the Warblers last year.”

“You are the best,” Sam laughed. “I'll tell you all about it later.”

“If you don't, I'll recruit Stevie and Stacy to tickle it out of you,” Blaine replied. “See you in a few hours. I love you.”

“Love you too,” Sam murmured before ending the call and turning to walk over to where the rest of the club settled and chairs. “So, there's this blogger called Jacob….”

“Sleaze.”

“Pervert.”

“Jewfro.”

“Rumormonger.”

“Stalker.”

“Sex offender in the making.”

Clearly, this Jacob guy was unpleasant. “He posted something about the thing with Karofsky and got a video of me telling that crowd what for,” Sam continued. “Apparently it's popping up on Google alerts….”

Before he'd finished the first sentence, nearly everyone had pulled out a smart phone and began tapping away. Sam shrugged and settled into a chair, knowing Blaine would have told him if there was anything bad in the article.

“Was that your boyfriend on the phone?” Kurt asked very quietly, take advantage of the other's distraction.

“Yeah,” Sam replied easily and saw a look of such…hope and longing on Kurt’s face that it almost hurt. Clearly, it wasn't easy being the gay kid at McKinley. Fishing out his phone again, Sam opened the photo album and offered it to Kurt. “That's him.”

Smiling, Kurt accepted the device and began flipping through the photos.

From where she was sitting, Santana looked up from her own phone. “You really have no idea how high school works, do you? People will not respond kindly to you trying to stir shit up. There is a hierarchy that will not be toppled. Jocks live to torture others. It's the law of the jungle.”

“Not me,” Sam replied bluntly. “I'd rather be able to respect myself than play it safe.”

“You're gonna drown in Slushees,” Santana told him, shaking her head and clearly thinking he was too stupid to live.

“This one's a video,” Kurt said suddenly, still peering at Sam's phone. “Can I play it?”

“Sure,” Sam said without thinking and jumped when the sound of a piano and Blaine crooning In The Wee Small Hours filled the room, the phones volume set on high.

Immediately, Rachel whipped around, eyes wide. "Who is that? He's very good.”

"Blaine’s the lead soloist at Dalton Academy,” Sam offered, smiling, proud for Blaine. He was awesome.

"Aw, he's cute!” Brittany cooed, leaning in behind Kurt to peer at the phone's screen. “But he dresses like an accountant.”

Sam blinked. “It's a school uniform.”

The other girls had crowded in around Kurt at Brittany’s comment about Blaine’s cuteness and Santana studied the screen for a moment before declaring, “It’s a little gay to be walking around with videos of a guy singing love songs on your phone.”

“Santana!” Rachel hissed and suddenly the video skipped to another scene and a little voice rang out from the phone. 

“Sammy! Sammy, play for us!” Stacy, his seven year old sister demanded, imperious in her Angelina ballerina pajamas as she cuddled on Blaine’s lap. Stevie was snuggled beside them and Sam heard his own laugh.

“Okay, okay, what should we sing tonight?” he asked, stepping into frame with his guitar in hand and sitting on the bed with them.

“Rainbow Connection!” the twins chorused and Blaine smirked at him.

“Why do you even bother asking?” he laughed and video!Sam began plucking out a familiar tune.

Flushing, Sam reached over and jabbed the pause button, wrapping his hand around the phone. “That’s not…It’s family time. Private.”

Sunday thru Thursday nights, when Blaine was off in Westerville, Sam played the video of Rainbow Connection for Stevie and Stacy, who adored Blaine nearly as much as Sam did.

“So very, very gay,” Santana said, crossing her arms and staring hard at Sam.

Stuffing his phone into his pocket, Sam met her gaze and said, “So very, very bisexual, thank you kindly.”

That earned him some surprised looks, but any questions were thankfully cut off by the arrival of Mr. Schuester. He seemed like a pretty nice guy (for a teacher) and was willing to let Sam take his Spanish tests orally because of his dyslexia. Most of the teachers at McKinley couldn’t be bothered to make accommodations, so Sam was totally willing to overlook the man’s terrible accent.

“Everyone, I think you’re really going to get a kick out of this week’s theme…Sam? Are you going to be joining us?” Mr. Shue asked pleasantly and Sam nodded. “Great! Why don’t you come on up and sing something for us!”

Borrowing a guitar, Sam launched himself into Stand by Rascal Flatts, the last song that had been playing on the radio when his dad had dropped him off at school.

When he finished, Rachel popped to her feet. “Well done! And very apropos considering this afternoon’s altercation.”

Mr. Shue looked at Rachel curiously. “What happened this afternoon?”

“Sam refused to bow down to peer pressure and took a very brave stance against the rampant bullying in this school!” Rachel said with a bright smile. “He’s on the football team and, instead of taking part in their ritual of Slusheeing us, he refused.”

“He Slusheed Karofsky,” Kurt added with a pleased little smile. “Then he called the rest of the student body out on being enablers.”

“There’s video of that part,” Tina said quietly. 

“An awesome verbal smack down,” Mike agreed with a nod.

Squirming, Sam asked, “Can we just…drop it? I wasn’t trying to do anything special. I was just trying to be the person my folks raised me to be.”

He honestly had no idea why everyone was acting like it was such a shock that he had behaved like a decent human being.

By the end of glee, Sam had gathered a few impressions about his new friends.

Mr. Shue was okay, enthusiastic but kinda oblivious and Sam knew that if he noticed that it was pretty darn obvious.

Rachel was super talented and kinda scary intense about singing.

Kurt was also an awesome singer, but he had this air about him…sadness and hurt and exhaustion that seemed to weigh him down.

Santana was terrifying. Great voice, but scary as hell.

Brittany was sweet and a beautiful dancer and she laughed at Sam’s impressions, which was always nice.

Quinn was beautiful and had a way about her that made her seem more mature than everyone else in the room, including Mr. Shue.

Mercedes was lovely and had a nice smile and her voice just blew Sam away.

Tina was quiet and cool and he really liked the colorful streaks in her hair. She smiled shyly when he told her that.

Mike was more relaxed in the choir room than he was on the football field and could dance like no one Sam had ever seen.

Artie was cool and clever and a great guitar player.

Puck was more chill when he wasn’t around their team mates, like he didn’t feel the need for false bravado around the glee club.

Finn was…territorial. He made sure to assert that he was the clubs’ male lead (not that Sam had any interest in the position) and kept putting his arm around Rachel, his girlfriend.

“We should celebrate your decision to join the club!” Rachel said loudly as Mr. Shue dismissed them for the day. “It could be a club bonding experience.”

Checking his phone, Sam saw a text from Blaine, time stamped 45 minutes earlier.

On baseball field with Stevie & Stacy.

Blaine was always good about keeping his texts short and clear while still using real words. Text speak confused the heck out of Sam.

“I…Blaine brought my brother and sister over to play on the baseball field. I’m gonna go meet them.”

“He was the one singing on your phone, yes?” Rachel plowed on. “I’d love to meet him.”

“Me too,” Kurt added and Sam sighed.

“Okay, yeah, come on,” he said and was surprised when the entirety of the club began to trail after them…though he was pretty sure Santana only wanted to come so she could keep up her running, sarcastic commentary.

Stacy was the first to see them approaching and reacted with all the subtlety and seven year old could.

“Sammy!” she bellowed, charging across the grass with no regard for the crowd of strangers behind him. Stevie, always shier, hurried over to grab Blaine’s hand and approached at a slower pace.

“Stacy Ann! Your toes best not leave that grass!” Sam shouted back, knowing that she would run out into the parking lot if he didn’t stop her.

She slowed and carefully crept to the edge of the grass before pointing down. “I’m still on the grass!”

“I see,” he commented with a smile, snatching her up to toss in the air, something that always made her shriek happily and flail.

Over the years, he’d gotten really good at dodging her tiny, sneakered feet, which inevitably seemed to try to kick him in a sensitive spot.

Blaine approached, eyes darting to the other members of the glee club. “Hey, Sam.”

“Sammy,” Stevie said, half hiding behind Blaine and wearing what appeared to be Blaine’s dandelion yellow cardigan.

“You forget your jacket, Bud?” Sam asked, which caused Stevie to shake his head.

Smiling, Blaine said, “He just wanted to wear it.”

Sam returned Blaine’s smile, casting his eyes to Blaine’s short sleeved black polo and muddy jeans. “You teaching them to slide?” he asked, putting Stacy (who was caked with dirt as well) down and shrugging out of his jacket, which he handed to Blaine. “Dude, I can see the goosebumps on your arms.”

“Always the white knight,” Blaine commented with a smile, slipping into the jacket and folding the sleeves back so he could see his hands.

“Hello, I’m Rachel Berry, co-captain of New Directions,” Rachel said suddenly, stepping around Sam and thrusting her hand out at Blaine. “Lovely to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he agreed, accepting her handshake. “Blaine Anderson.”

“Blaine, Stacy, Stevie, meet the glee club,” Sam said, turning and pointing as he said names. “Rachel, Finn, Kurt, Artie, Brittany, Santana, Mike, Tina, Puck, Mercedes and Quinn.”

Stacy gave them all an appraising look and Sam was once again sure his little sister got the brains in the family. She also got more than her share of the crazy, but it was a trade off. Unimpressed, she simply said, “Hi. Sammy, I’m thirsty.”

“There are juice boxes in my bag,” Blaine told her, pointing to the nearby bench. “Wipe your hands and face first.”

“Thank you,” she chirped happily, grabbing Stevie and dragging him over to rifle through the aforementioned messenger bag.

Sam let his eyes follow them even as he listened to Blaine say, “I saw your group perform at Sectionals and Regionals last year. You’re good.”

“You spied on us?”

The force of Finn’s question surprised Sam, who spun and stepped closer to Blaine.

Blaine simply blinked at Finn. “No. We went to watch and learn. Competitions are open to the public. Spying is unseemly and against Warbler bylaws. The governing council would take umbridge at the very thought!”

“Umbridge?” Sam asked, only knowing the word as the name of a Harry Potter character and knowing that couldn’t be what Blaine was talking about.

“Very strong offense,” Blaine murmured. “You know Wes would have us in stocks in the senior commons before he’d allow the Warbler’s reputation to be sullied.”

“Wes needs a new girlfriend.”

“He has his eye on Daphne Royce from Crawford,” Blaine told him, then frowned. “But he’s just acting even more frustrated….”

“We should take him out,” Sam said, grinning. “You do that thing where you breathe and girls trip over themselves to fawn on you and then you tell them you’re with me but our friend is straight. He’s like one of the few who haven’t used us as college girl bait.”

That got a laugh from Blaine and Puck said, “Wait. Hold on. Guys use gay dudes to pick up chicks? How does that work?”

Blaine smiled. “It makes them seem secure and enlightened.”

“Plus, all the girls want to be Blaine’s friend and adopt him and cuddle him,” Sam sing-songed and Blaine gave him a little shove.

“That was one very drunk girl.”

“Dude, she tried to carry you away!” Sam giggled and Blaine huffed.

“In my defense,” he said, aiming his comment at the glee club, “that was before my last growth spurt!”

There was a pause before Finn asked, “You’ve had a growth spurt? How short were you before?”

Knowing that Blaine wasn’t fond of being called short, Sam said, “He’s not short. He’s fun sized.”

Rolling his eyes, Blaine quipped, “Yes, because that’s so much better…and why are your friends staring?”

“I think you two have thrown their pre-conceived notions of what a gay teenage boy is supposed to look and act like for a loop,” Kurt mused and Sam blinked, mulling the words over.

Blaine just chuckled. “Well, if it makes you all feel better, I’m not usually covered in mud and I adore a good bowtie…though I’m not sure I could work one with this jacket.”

“You’d make it work,” Sam told him with a grin. “I mean, you dress like someone’s grandpa sometimes but still manage to look incredible, so….”

“Reaching beyond the endless combinations of plaid, t-shirts and jeans does not mean I dress like a grandpa!” Blaine laughed, shaking his head. “But you get points for saying I look incredible.”

Sam smiled at that and let the back of his hand bump Blaine’s. “Not all of us have your sense of style,” he said, then looked down when he felt someone grab his leg. “What’s up, Stacy?”

“I want to go home now,” she told him, in a tone he knew all too well. Stacy was tired. Tired Stacy was not a fun Stacy to be around. Hefting her up into his arms, he turned to the rest of the club, “Sorry, looks like we’re gonna take them home.”

“But this was barely bonding,” Rachel said, watching as Blaine gathered up his bag and Stevie. “Oh, give me your number! I’ll text you and we can all get together and do something.”

There were disgruntled grumbles from some of the club, but almost everyone nodded. Looking over at Blaine, who shrugged, Sam said, “Sounds cool. We’re in.”

Maybe he wouldn’t hate everything about going to school at McKinley after all.


End file.
